


Just Another Nightmare

by spoke



Category: CS Friedman - Coldfire Trilogy
Genre: Yuletide, challenge:Yuletide 2007
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-25
Updated: 2007-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 01:30:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/326256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoke/pseuds/spoke





	Just Another Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Taz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taz/gifts).



 

 

The scent of death was in the air, so thick it was nearly impossible to make anything else out. Still there was a hint of the cold, of sharp new frost and old snow packed down with its own weight. He could sense it above him, weighing down the branches of the trees that surrounded him. It was dangerous, this forest, and he'd armed himself accordingly in spite of Gerald's mocking reminder that nothing of the Forest would harm what was his.

Though for something to attack him at the very foot of the castle would be rank suicide. He could almost feel the inky shadow of that twisted edifice stretching across the snowbound trees, doubling the cloak that prevented any sunlight from touching the Hunter's domain. He had come outside... he couldn't quite remember why he'd come outside. Probably to try and clear his head, although that didn't seem to be happening.

It was sound of a woman screaming that jolted him out of his musings. He was drawn to the sound and the whisper along their link that told him that the Hunter was moving towards her as well. All thought of the cold and his own confusion was driven out of his mind as he felt the intensity of the Hunter's twisted pleasure. Some part of him wondered what, exactly, he thought he was going to do if he reached them in time. It didn't matter in any case, as he felt himself stumble when the hunger and the pleasure peaked together in an almost sexual passion. It was all he could do for long minutes to lean against the nearest tree and breathe. In and out, trying to recover his sense of self, to convince himself that he was not in a clearing tasting the cooling blood of a woman whose only crime had been her beauty, who allure had been her capacity for fear.

Then he was moving again, on the trail of the link between himself and Gerald. It wasn't all that long before the trees were falling away as he entered a clearing where the Hunter knelt, a pale form stretched out on the ground before him. He couldn't see her clearly enough to judge whether or not she was dead, but then he didn't need to - he would be lying to himself if he thought that she could survive. He could feel the Hunter's pleasure ebbing into a slow contentment, need satisfied for now by the night's bloodshed. "You're late." The cold voice was almost... chiding? Affectionate?

He opened his mouth to express his revulsion and confusion, but the words that came out were nothing like he intended. "I got lost in your bloody Forest, Gerald."

Standing in a fluid hiss of silks, Gerald turned to look at him. Damien had one glimpse of the fairly mangled corpse behind him before the Hunter's eyes claimed his view; one moment to wonder why it had been necessary to be so violent, what evil had been awakened in Gerald by her fears so that he reacted in that fashion. "That shouldn't be possible. Did you follow the link, Vyrce? Or were you trying to ignore it again?"

"No, I..." He shook his head as a wave of dizziness came over him, thoughts and feelings blurring as if the snow in the branches had shaken down around him to obscure his vision. "I... wasn't paying attention," he continued as he followed Gerald back towards the castle. "I was distracted." He muttered under his breath, eyeing the ghouls that flickered in and out of existence around them, nothing with the strength to manifest itself in the Hunter's presence.

Nothing entered the Forest without becoming subject to the Hunter's will; he should know that best of all. Hadn't he seen it happen when he and Senzei came into the forest all those years ago, riding hard on the Hunter's trail and determined to rescue Ciani? They'd been so naive, so determined. It hadn't stopped the Forest from swallowing Senzei whole, luring him to his doom with a false Ciani... hadn't he gone to her and been devoured before Damien even had a chance to get a Fire-laden bolt into it?

Hadn't he?

And he'd continued on because there was no turning back, and no escaping the demonic bargain the Hunter offered in exchange for his services. But Ciani, he couldn't remember... what had happened to her? Where was she now?

He paused on the steps behind Gerald. Looking up at the castle, seeing the faintest hint of reflected sunlight touching that black glass, he felt another spell of the dizziness that had touched him in the Forest. He shook his head when Gerald turned and called to him, and followed him inside. Sunrise was coming, and it would envelope the castle with heat and warmth that was still deadly for all of winter's chill. It was a little early in the night for that, though, even by Gerald's paranoid standards of safety.

There were dozens of small details to see to in order for the keep to be secured against the day. He'd turned to go about those as usual when he felt Gerald's hand on his arm. He was led down to the laboratory level, his confusion no doubt evident in the bond between them; but Gerald didn't bother to speak until they had actually reached the room. "Damien."

"Gerald, what's going on?" He asked. The feeling that something was wrong was intensifying, but he couldn't take his eyes off Gerald.

Who was too close now, and Damien flinched back, trying to get out of his personal space even though Gerald was moving towards him. Then he felt lips on his, the pale eyes boring through him and pinning him in place as effectively as any Working.

His mouth was so cold and it was hard to think, but he couldn't... Hands working at his clothing and he was helping, but it wouldn't hold, something was wrong and then -

The sound of waves. Night, on the Golden Glory. He was in his cabin, and alone, and shaking so badly it was all he could do to hold still. If he tried to move now he would kill Tarrant, and months worth of suffering would be for nothing. Nothing, he had to remember that. He twisted in the sheets, wondering how he could go about getting of his response to that dream without Tarrant knowing about... smug bastard would never let him live this down.

* * *

Safely locked away in his cabin belowdeck, Gerald Tarrant smiled and waited. He only needed Damien to fall asleep again to make certain he wouldn't remember. Though the kiss had been a surprising addition; was the priest actually harboring some kind of feeling for him, or was it merely repressed energy now that their navigator had turned him away?

 


End file.
